


The Power of Books

by scarletladyy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-08
Updated: 2011-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:48:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletladyy/pseuds/scarletladyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pansy discovers Hermione's secret, but she never expected that it would bring them closer together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Power of Books

Hermione was in her element as she tidied away all the books for the day. Children loved to come in and take them out, scan through them as though they could read what was on the pages. She knew they couldn't, but she liked seeing their happy faces so she didn't seem to mind when they were dropped all over the floor after they were done with them. A smooth over and they were always as good as new. Her boss, though, thought differently.

"Damn kids!" Pansy would scream whenever they left books everywhere. "That's twice as much work, now."

"Leave it to me," Hermione said, ushering Pansy away. They really didn't get on, at all, and Hermione had no idea why Pansy was even working there. She hadn't asked, a little too afraid of the temper on the woman; if she could be so nasty to children, Hermione was sure she wouldn't have a good attitude with her. "I like doing it."

"You like cleaning up after snotty nosed brats?"

Hermione shrugged, a smile on her face as she remembered the flower a little girl had given her earlier this afternoon. "I like children."

Pansy snorted. "Haven't a clue why."

"Because I'm a decent --" she turned around, looking at Pansy and sighing. "Never mind."

Pansy smiled wryly. "Were you about to say I wasn't a decent person because I don't like children?"

"No, no," Hermione shook her head frantically. "Of course not."

Pansy smiled, she always loved taunting Hermione. "Good. So if you like children so much, why don't you have any of your own?"

"Ron doesn't want them yet," Hermione shrugged, walking behind the desk and opening the till to start to cash up. "He's focusing on being an Auror."

"Why didn't you become an Auror?"

Hermione was struck by the question; nobody had ever asked her that before. "I don't know. I suppose it's because I love books too much."

"What kind of books?"

The money in Hermione's hands was wobbling now as her hands trembled under Pansy's interrogation. "What's with all the questions?"

Pansy shrugged. "I'm just interested."

"Well don't be," Hermione said, slamming the till shut and taking the cash into the storeroom to count it up. Pansy could be extremely infuriating Hermione had found since she started work there a few months ago, never leaving her alone to get a minutes peace to herself. Half the time she wanted to curl up in the armchairs with a good book, but since it was a book she didn't want Pansy to see, she usually couldn't do that.

~

Hermione sat curled up in the corner of the shop where the armchairs were, book in hand and a cup of coffee on the table next to her. She felt fantastic, and since it was Pansy's morning off, she had the place to herself. Nobody ever came in on a Tuesday morning, so she felt perfectly at ease sitting comfortably in the front of the shop. Normally she'd huddle behind the counter or in the store room, afraid a customer might pop in and see the cover. You see, Hermione didn't read ordinary books. Hermione read _dirty_ books. About masters and mistresses, whips and paddles, chains and bonds, blindfolds and gags, collars and leashes. Yes, Hermione knew all about the life of a submissive, it excited her no end, and she often daydreamed about Ron becoming her dominant.

Of course, she knew it would never happen. Ron liked variation as much as the next guy, well, in position that was, but he didn't like anything kinky. Just straight sex, not that she'd tried to suggest to him that she wanted anything more, he'd just made it abundantly clear plenty of times. So, she spent as much time as she could reading all the BDSM books on offer in the shop, but with Pansy working there, she couldn't really do it that often. Hermione would be mortified if Pansy ever found out her secret. She was sure to use it to her advantage and tell all her friends. She really didn't fancy Malfoy or Zabini swanning in to gloat over it any time soon.

With the chapter finished, she tucked her book away in a place she didn't think anyone would find it: taped to the underside of the second armchair. Smiling to herself, she visited the toilet to relieve the excitement between her legs, and by the time she'd come out, Pansy was there behind the counter.

"Oh," Hermione said, her breath still a bit ragged, "you're early, aren't you?"

Pansy shrugged. "A little. Had nothing better to do."

"Right." Hermione nodded and started to unpack the three new boxes of books they'd recently got in. She picked up a pile of books from the first box, and upon seeing the title, dropped the whole lot.

"Granger!" Pansy said. "Whatever are you doing?"

"Sorry," she said, a little shaken up from her shock. She bent down to pick up the books, which were all of a BDSM nature. Pansy walked over to help her, and let out a huge smile.

"' _Claire's Mistress_ '?" she said with glee, reading the title of the book out loud. "Surely this can't be the first time you've come across these sorts of books. We're always getting them in."

"It, it isn't," Hermione stammered, walking over to the shelves and placing them in alphabetical order. "I just, well, they --"

Pansy smiled. "You're a prude, I get it."

"No, no," Hermione said, desperate to defend herself. "I'm not, really."

"You seem it," Pansy was leaning against a bookcase now, watching her intently as she placeed the books on the shelves, one by one, trembling all the while. "Jumping and dropping a whole pile of books just because they're on the subject of BDSM? Or --" Pansy reckoned she'd hit the jackpot now, "is there something you're not telling me?"

Hermione turned to face her sharply. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Perhaps you're secretly into BDSM, Granger." Pansy walked over to sit on the second armchair, spreading herself out on it comfortably. "Perhaps you really have a thing for it."

This was far too much for Hermione; she was really worried now. Pansy had sat right above the dirty book she'd been reading. She couldn't possibly know, could she? No, Pansy hadn't seen her reading it or putting it away, she was sure. She would have known, and at the very least would have been able to change her hiding place. "Don't be silly," she said, walking over to pick up another pile, her voice faltering.

"Don't worry, Granger," Pansy said, leaning forward and ducking her hands under the chair. Hermione nervously watched as she pulled her book out from underneath, her cheeks blushing in shame as she looked away. "I won't tell anyone your secret."

Gulping, Hermione tried to ignore the situation and get back to work, but Pansy was having none of it.

"Look at me." Hermione ignored her. "I'm your boss, you will look at me now."

Pansy's voice was stern, and there was something about it that made Hermione want to obey her, so with her blushing red cheeks and the embarrassment in her eyes, she did look. The book she'd been reading, _Alice's Punishment_ , was sitting there firmly on Pansy's lap. She stared at it just so she didn't have to see the smug look on Pansy's face.

"I won't tell," Pansy said as Hermione ran out of the room, crying and extremely humiliated.

~

It was three weeks before Hermione even chanced reading her book again, and she'd only managed to do so by buying the book under a fake name and taking it home with her. She swore to herself she'd burn it as soon as she was finished so Ron wouldn't find it, though she suspected she was safe since he never went into her bedside drawer. Better to be safe than sorry, she thought, and she took the precaution of charming it to be invisible should he take a look.

The atmosphere in the shop with Pansy had been tense and awkward ever since that day, with Pansy handing out even more orders than she had done before. There was always a sense of glee in her voice when she commanded Hermione to make her tea or set up the new stock, and Hermione found herself spending most of her time at work embarrassed and blushing, though she couldn't deny the slight wetness between her legs even though she wanted to. As much as she hated to admit it, she really quite enjoyed it, though she'd be damned if she let that show.

"I know you enjoy it when I boss you around."

Or perhaps it was showing without her being able to control it.

"Don't be silly," Hermione said, burying herself in the books she was stacking.

"You know, for someone so prudish it's a wonder I like you," Pansy said, leaving Hermione to turn around in complete shock and stare at her.

"You like me?"

Pansy nodded. "Apparently so. Slytherin's have always loved a challenge -- I bet you that's it."

"I'm nobody's challenge," Hermione snapped, slamming one of the books onto the shelves in a temper.

"Aww," Pansy whined mockingly, "won't you be my challenge?"

Angrily Hermione stared Pansy down, making sure her annoyance was known. "I'm married."

"Are you really?" Pansy's eyebrows rose as though she didn't know that. "Well, I'd never have guessed. It must be the Weasel -- the both of you feeling so unloved you clung to each other like leeches."

Hermione didn't say anything, dropping her gaze away from Pansy's and continuing her task. There were many more questions directed at her, but Hermione made it a point to ignore each and every one of them -- she wouldn't give Pansy the satisfaction of taunting her anymore. She couldn't even fathom why Pansy was saying such things, as if she were a 'pet project' or something. Well, she wasn't -- she was a straight, married woman and she was going to stay that way. She loved Ron, she always had and she always would.

Then Hermione thought back to that statement. As much as she really did love Ron, they weren't exactly happy -- not with him going to the pub every night with Seamus and Dean, often leaving her crying in Harry's arms. Of course he thought his best mate was being an idiot, but wasn't that what _everyone_ said about Ron... that he was an idiot? Yes, she supposed it was.

"He really is an idiot, you know," Pansy said when Hermione tuned back in. "A rambling, pathetic idiot."

Hermione sighed; so this was someone else to add to the list of who thought her husband was an idiot. "Be quiet, would you?"

"Why haven't you asked me to stop?"

"Sorry?"

"As much as you've told me to be quiet, you haven't actually asked me to stop insulting your husband."

"Please stop insulting my husband," Hermione said -- anything to get Pansy off her back, didn't she have work to do?

"Yeah," Pansy laughed, "it doesn't really come across as if you mean it if someone has to mention it first."

"Don't you have work to do?" Hermione finally snapped, her cheeks red again, but not from embarrassment, this time from anger. She looked into Pansy's face, which was now scowling at her.

"I'm the boss, Granger," she scowled, "I'll decide whether or not I have work to do. Now -- in the office, I want you to do a stock take."

Inwardly Hermione groaned -- she hated the stock takes more than anything else. They were so tedious and boring, even though she was good at them, and she knew Pansy was doing it because she was pissed off with her. "Fine." She supposed it was a good excuse to stay away from her, though. No more antagonising questions or stupid comments.

Despite this, Hermione spent the rest of the day in a really bad mood, and she wasn't any better when she got home. When she walked through the front door she was surprised to see Ron there, though not that surprised to see Seamus and Dean with him too. It seemed she could never get a night alone with him, because if he was at the pub he never got back until she was in bed.

"Darling," Ron cried as she walked into the living room. As per usual, he'd been drinking, and they were all sat in a circle drinking what looked like shots of Firewhiskey.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not in the mood tonight, Ron."

"You're never in the mood!" Ron laughed, throwing back another shot and causing her to storm off. She wasn't tired but she decided to make her way to bed anyway, at the very least so she could read a bit more of her book. It's not as if Ron would leave his mates to come join her, so she had nothing to worry about. Or so she thought. She was just reaching into her bedside drawer to fetch it when Ron literally fell into the room, clinging onto the doorframe for dear life. "Where'd you go? Why didn't you join us?"

"Just go downstairs and have fun, would you? I want to be left alone."

"Why?" Ron slurred, looking as if he wouldn't even remember the answer in a few seconds -- let alone the next morning -- if she told him.

"It's none of your business," she snapped. "Just go."

Ron obeyed, but not without making fun of her in a mocking voice first. She could hear him all down the landing and it did nothing but infuriate her. She was glad she had the escape of her books, even if they were 'dirty' ones. They were a lot more interesting than her current life, that's all she could say.

~

Hermione was storming around the shop, books strewn everywhere as she tried to organise the mess that Pansy had left the place in the night before. That was only part of her bad mood, though -- that very morning Ron had decided was the perfect time to tell her what an embarrassment she was, and how she never wanted to have any fun. She suspected he was still a little drunk, but she didn't think that was any excuse. The only good news was that Pansy had the morning off, so she had the shop to herself in which to vent her frustrations.

It was the last straw when a couple of books fell down off the top shelf, making her jump in fright and trip. Tears formed in her eyes and she bit them back -- she may be alone, but she didn't like crying. Her cries of frustration were loud, though, and it was at that moment Pnasy strolled in, a casual smirk on her face upon seeing Hermione in such a state.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione said, her voice weak and quiet.

"I came in early to do a stock take," Pansy said as she took off her coat and placed her bag under the counter. "I see you're not in a good mood."

Hermione rolled her eyes and pressed her fingers tightly against the book she was holding. "I'm fine."

Pansy giggled and walked over to her. "I don't think so -- you're all tense."

"No, I'm not," Hermione said with as much confidence as she could muster, though her clenched body proved Pansy right. She felt soft hands on her shoulders and fingers massaging her, and for a second she forgot where she was and who was doing it. Massages had always had the potential to make Hermione feel fantastic, and she could just slip into another world while they were happening. Really, they were her Achilles Heel. Then the fingers pressed in a little harder and she leapt forward, finding Pansy's actions too inappropriate. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you relax," Pansy shrugged, as though it didn't really matter, yet she'd admitted yesterday that she liked her. _Like that,_.

"Er, well," Hermione wasn't sure how best to say her piece, "I just think it's inappropriate. I'm married and well, you like me..."

Pansy's eyebrows rose. "You really think the Weasel will mind if I give his wife a backrub? He'd probably wank to the image, Granger."

Hermione gasped and clamped her hand to her mouth. "Don't be so _crude_!"

"Oh, come off it. You don't really believe he doesn't wank, do you?"

"Well, I don't know. Look, I don't want to talk about this. It's making me uncomfortable."

Pansy smiled. "Quite. So what do you want to talk about? Exactly _why_ you're in such a bad mood?"

"A little," Hermione admitted, leaning back against one of the bookshelves.

"Go on then," Pansy tried to encourage her, but Hermione wasn't so sure.

"With you?" Hermione shook her head. "I'm not sure. We don't exactly get on..."

"Sometimes the best listeners are those outside of the situation. How much more outside can I get?"

Hermione thought for a moment; she did really need to get this out, and Harry seemed to be finding her constant whining annoying. "I suppose."

"Come here, then," Pansy said, sitting herself in one of the chairs and placing a stool in front of her. "Sit here."

"Um, why?"

Pansy smiled and tapped the stool. "I want you to feel relaxed when you talk to me. Come on, it's harmless -- you know that."

Hermione wasn't sure she did know that, but she followed Pansy's tapping fingers and sat on the stool, facing away from her. The moment the fingers touched her shoulders and started to work their magic, Hermione let everything out -- from when she and Ron were young and in love to how their marriage deteriorated over the years. Pansy was quiet and gently rubbed her hands all over Hermione's back, just listening, and Hermione hadn't felt this good in months, perhaps a year, even.

When Hermione had finished telling her story, Pansy flipped her gently around. "Well?"

"That...that felt good," Hermione admitted, blushing slightly. She knew there was a connection between them, she could feel it the first time Pansy had touched her, but she'd tried to deny it. She told herself she was just feeling a bit weird because Pansy had said she liked her. Yes, that had to be it.

"Perhaps now we can have a more pleasant working environment," Pansy stood up and straightened her skirt down, her face back to a stony cold frown.

Hermione nodded. "Perhaps."

That night Hermione felt as though she was floating on air, and she didn't even mind that Ron didn't come home until the early hours. She smiled sweetly to herself when he woke her with his bumbling about, instead of feeling annoyed and angry. For the first time in a while, she was actually looking forward to something in her life, and she never suspected it would be working with Pansy Parkinson. She couldn't tell anyone, not even Ron -- well, especially Ron. It would be her little secret.

"Morning," Hermione smiled brightly at Pansy when she went into work the next morning.

"My, you're chirpy," Pansy commented. "Why so happy?"

Hermione shrugged as if she didn't really know. "Does it matter?"

"Suppose not," Pansy said, pointing to a box of books that had arrived earlier, "you need to stock them."

Doing a mocking salute, and surprising herself more than Pansy, Hermione went over and merrily stocked the books. She didn't even mind that they were of the adult variety, though she suspected Pansy had done that on purpose. "Why do we go through these types of books so fast?"

"Witches and wizards are naughty, Hermione," Pansy said slyly, winking at her.

"Hmm," Hermione mused, unconvinced as she held one of them in her hands. "See this," she pointed to the front cover, "I don't get it -- what is it?"

Pansy laughed and walked over, taking the book from Hermione's hands. "This is called scissoring - two women rubbing their vulvas together to get off."

"Er," Hermione was confused and blushing bright red. "How does... how does that work, exactly?"

"Perhaps I should teach you some time," said Pansy, licking her lips and making Hermione extremely uncomfortable.

"Is there anything else that needs doing?" Hermione asked, backing away. "I mean, anything -- anything at all."

Pansy's lips curled into a tight smile. "Of course. I always have other work available should my employees become uncomfortable with the adult books."

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"Just mind the till," Pansy said, dismissively waving her hand and continuing where Hermione had left off. Feeling a little dejected, Hermione did so, but she couldn't help but get the books cover and Pansy's explanation out of her mind. She'd always wondered how two women, well, did it and it seemed now she knew. Since there was only one copy of that book she didn't think she'd be able to take it without Pansy noticing, but she might be able to get it from somewhere else. She was genuinely intrigued about the topic, and it had nothing to do with Pansy liking her. Or, so she tried to convince herself during the day.

Hermione had found herself watching Pansy whenever she didn't think the woman was looking. She snuck peeks as she served the customers, and loved the way her skirt rode up her arse when she was trying to reach the shelves higher up. It scared her though, she didn't know why she was thinking those things but she knew she certainly shouldn't be -- she was a married woman. A married, straight woman, and not to mention Pansy was her boss. The worst part of it was that when she had sex with Ron a couple of nights later, because she found herself unbelievably horny after having a quick look at that book whilst Pansy was in the back room, she was thinking of Pansy.

Closing her eyes during the sex, Hermione imagined that Ron's rough, coarse fingers were Pansy's soft ones, caressing her all over. The images going through her mind when she climaxed -- and she normally didn't during sex -- were that of Pansy's skirt riding up and the cleavage the tight tops she wore showed.

"Wow, that was good," Ron had said, breathless and sober for the first time in a while. "You haven't been that good since we were at Hogwarts."

Hermione hadn't known what to say -- she could hardly tell him it was because she was thinking of their old school rival, so she just smiled politely and turned away to sleep. Little did she know that Pansy Parkinson was to haunt her there too.

~

"So what time is he usually home then?" Pansy asked, sitting at the kitchen table. Hermione had invited her round for a cup of tea, though she was now quite unsure as to why she had done so as Pansy looked around her kitchen with questioning eyes.

"Whenever he wants," Hermione sighed, grasping her cup tightly, partly from embarrassment about her husband and partly because the situation was so awkward.

Pansy nodded. "Right. Men. Draco used to be the same."

"Used?"

"Oh," Pansy smiled casually, "we broke up years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that --"

"Why?" Pansy laughed, "I'm not! So, tell me, why did you invite me round?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not quite sure." Mostly the reason was that she thought it was a good idea at the time, but also because she found herself wanting to spend more time in Pansy's company, though she wasn't sure she wanted to admit that. Even if she was making it obvious.

"I think I know why," Pansy said softly, reaching her hand across the table and placing it on Hermione's. Their eyes met for a silent second, until the atmosphere was broken by the front door slamming open and shut, and a raging Ron running rampant through the house. Pansy quickly retracted her hand and Hermione watched her stare down into her mug and blush as Ron stood against the doorjamb, looking perplexed.

"Er," Ron started, and Hermione could already tell he'd been drinking. Not as much as usual, but still. "What is _she_ doing here?"

"Please, Ron. Don't be so rude -- Pansy is my boss."

Ron's eyebrows raised and he stared hard at Pansy, his eye's piercing. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I knew you'd react like this," she breathed in deeply, trying not to let her the anger rising up inside her show. "Really, it doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter?" Ron's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Don't you remember she tried to hand Harry over to the Dark Lord?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That was a long time ago, Ron. We were all just kids back then."

"I'd better go --" Pansy said, standing up and grabbing her coat off the back of the chair.

"Yes!" Ron said quickly. "I think you'd better."

"No!" Hermione almost shouted, surprising herself at how much she didn't want Pansy to leave. "Stay, please."

Pansy shook her head. "Really, it's fine. I have to be going anyway."

Looking bashful, Hermione didn't think that was true. If Ron hadn't have walked in the door at that very moment she wasn't sure what else could have happened. They'd shared an intimate moment, just as they had in the bookshop, and she desperately wanted it to continue. She wanted to be liked and valued, and these days Pansy seemed to be the only one offering that. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, bye," Pansy said quietly as she slipped past Ron, whose face by now was furious and bright red, matching his hair.

No sooner had the door shut was he shouting, "and don't come back!"

Hermione shook her head. "I can't believe you, Ron."

"Me?" he looked genuinely confused, as though he hadn't done anything wrong. "Me? You're the one fratenising with the enemy."

She cleared up their cups and took them over to the sink, filling it instantly with hot water with a flick of her wand. "I'm just trying to make my work life a little more pleasant. It's no good if you're always going to be on at each other -- you should know that. It's why this relationship isn't working."

"What?"

"Oh, come on," she said quietly, avoiding his gaze. "We haven't been working for a while."

"We had great sex the other night!" Ron protested, and Hermione could only think _I wonder why that was_ sarcastically, but instead she shook her head.

"Perhaps, but that still doesn't mean we're working. You're always drunk, out at the pub and with mates -- we never spend any time together any more. Any _sober_ time," she added, seeing he was about to argue.

Ron stared down at the floor and mumbled. "You're always in bed when I get back."

"Because I don't want to see you when you're drunk," Hermione said, not giving him any chance to retort as she made her way past him and up the stairs. She lay on their double bed, curled up in the fetal position and allowed a solitary tear to escape, though she quickly wiped it away in case Ron came up. He didn't, and she stared out of the window blankly. From her position on the bed she could see the stars in the night sky; they looked so beautiful and peaceful, and she wished her life could be like that.

Uncomplicated.

Alas, it was nothing like that.For over a year she'd had the constant problem of Ron being an arse -- and she wasn't even sure what had started it -- and now she was... she was having feelings for another woman. Not just any woman. Pansy friggin' Parkinson -- her boss of all people. She wasn't sure life could get any worse at the moment and another couple of tears fell as she tried to work out what she could possibly do to make it all right again.

Unfortunately, this time, there was no getting her answer from a book.

~

"I am so, _so_ sorry about Ron," Hermione said as soon as she opened the bookshop door. Pansy was stood at the till counting the change, and had a look of indifference on her face.

"I don't care," Pansy shrugged.

"Oh," she said faintly, taking her coat off and placing it on the counter. She was now standing directly in front of Pansy, who seemed to be avoiding looking her in the eye. "Well, I do. And I'm sorry."

Pansy tossed her hair over her shoulder and finally looked Hermione in the eyes. "Did you wonder what might have happened if the Weasel hadn't --"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I spent all night thinking about it." She sighed, biting her bottom lip. "But this... us even talking about it, it's wrong, and it's making my life more complicated. Not only do I have Ron to worry about, now I have you too."

"Sorry," Pansy mumbled, then opened a drawer and pulled out a wrapped present. "This is for you, anyway."

Perplexed, Hermione took the present and unwrapped it, gasping as she realised what it was. "But --!"

"It's just to satisfy your curiosity. I've seen you looking at it more than once."

Hermione stared at the front cover -- it was the book with the cover of the girls scissoring on it. "Er, thanks?" She didn't know what to say; she was terribly embarrassed. She wrapped it back up again and went round to the back of the counter, placing it back in the drawer. "I'll pick it up before I leave tonight."

"Okay. And you know, you could seem more grateful when people give you presents," Pansy smirked at her, tapping her pen annoyingly on the counter.

Hermione blushed. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I was just taken aback, that's all."

"Quite. So, Granger, the stocktake needs doing. Chop chop, get to it," Pansy said in the cold, dull voice she had used when Hermione had first started there, and she realised Pansy was trying, at the very least, to make things as uncomplicated for her as possible.

For the next few days, Hermione's problems lessened, and she focused her attentions more on Ron, who was pissed after the other night. They'd had a massive row about how he didn't want Slytherins in their house, and how she could do so much better with her career and he didn't agree their relationship was in tatters. Hermione hadn't raised her voice, she rarely did, she just listened until he'd finished ranting and then calmly replied. He wasn't satisfied with the answers, but that was the best she could do, and she was astonished when he slept on the sofa -- he never did that.

The only problem was that she couldn't stop thinking about Pansy, and she found that whenever she was alone her thoughts often turned to sexual ones, and it was all she could do to keep from touching herself. The book Pansy had given her was nearly worn out already; she'd quickly read it cover to cover and found the images illustrating the acts really quite eye opening. How two females made love surprised and excited her, which only served to make her confront her own sexuality.

Hermione had always just assumed she was straight -- didn't everyone? But now... these thoughts, did they make her a lesbian? She wasn't sure. Perhaps bisexual, because she still found Ron attractive -- on the very rare occasions he wasn't being an arse that was. If this had been another man she'd fancied -- no, wait, she didn't _fancy_ Pansy, did she? Alright, if this had been another man she'd been mulling thoughts over, she would have done the decent thing and stayed away from him, but it wasn't as though she could do that with Pansy.

The woman was her boss, and she had to see her nearly every day at work regardless of her feelings, or the feelings she knew Pansy had about her. It wasn't possible to stay away from her, but Hermione also knew she didn't have to invite her round. That had been on a whim, an impulse, and one she'd really been enjoying until Ron had burst in, tipsy and angry as anything. Now she knew she couldn't bring Pansy to her home again, so she supposed that was a good thing. Less chance of anything untoward happening.

Not that it would, she told herself. The relationship she was building with Pansy was simply a platonical one, and only for working purposes too. There was no point in colleagues not getting on, it just didn't make sense, especially not in such a tiny shop.

"You seem distracted," Pansy said softly one evening when they were cleaning the shop. "What's wrong?"

Hermione shrugged. "Just thinking about things."

"Here," Pansy pulled something out from under the counter. "Do you want a nightcap?"

"Is that... is that _Firewhiskey_?" Hermione gasped, looking around cautiously.

"Yes, and an expensive one at that," Pansy laughed. "It's fine, the shops closed. There's nobody else here."

Hermione wasn't really one for drinking, she never had been, particularly with Ron going all out with it recently, but one or two wouldn't hurt. "Go on, then. It's not as if I don't need it."

"Atta girl," Pansy grinned, pouring her some into a whiskey glass. "Have you ever had this before?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Virgin," Pansy mocked, winking. "Trust me, you'll like it."

Taking a sip, Hermione wasn't so sure about that, but as she swirled it around in her mouth she savoured the taste. It was sour and had quite a bit of a kick to it, not to mention it stung on the way down. But the aftertaste... oh, the aftertaste. That was good, and it was more than enough for her to take a large gulp and down the rest of it quickly.

"Steady on," Pansy said, pouring her another glass. "You have had alcohol before, right Granger?"

"Yeah, 'course."

Pansy smirked. "A glass of champagne at Christmas' and birthday's doesn't count!"

"Then no," Hermione said pointedly, feeling embarrassed.

"Merlin," Pansy replied, looking shocked. "How on earth did you survive those long, dull nights in the common room?"

"By studying, of course," Hermione said, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "I thought everybody did. Well, everybody but Harry and Ron..." Pansy tossed her hair around as she laughed, and Hermione noted that she loved the way it fell across her face. She snapped herself out of it as Pansy spoke again.

"Well, we Slytherins played many a drinking game. Fancy one?"

"I guess?" Hermione wasn't quite sure what those entailed, but she was in no hurry to go back home.

"Right, we'll have _I have never_. So,” Pansy began, “it’s pretty easy. I’ll say something like ‘I have never...'” and if you’ve done it you have to take a drink. Got it?” Hermione thought it sounded pretty easy. She thought Pansy would end up drinking loads more than she would though; comparatively, Hermione had done incredibly less then the other girl.

“I’ll go first so you get the idea, ok?” Again, Hermione nodded, and watched as she refilled their glasses. “Ok, I have never had sex with a Weasley,” Pansy laughed. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“You did that on purpose!” but she took a sip of Firewhiskey anyway. “Alright,” she whispered after the sweet, fiery taste slid down her throat, and instantly she knew what she would say. “I have never kissed a girl before.”

“Well duh,” Pansy smiled, but took the shoot good-naturedly. “I have never seen a woman naked."

Hermione watched as Pansy threw a shot back, and blushed as she didn't. Pansy smirked, but indicated for her to continue the game as she poured another shot. "I have never passed out from drinking." Pansy giggled and took another shot, and whilst she appeared to be as sober as when they first started the game, Hermione was feeling woozy and a little dizzy, her cheeks a little flushed.

"I have never had a BDSM relationship," Pansy said sharply, and quickly took another shot. Hermione's eyes grew wide with shock -- Pansy was into _that_ as well? Well, Hermione could hardly say she was into it. "What? Don't look so surprised!"

Ignoring this, Hermione tried something tamer. As overly tipsy as she was getting, she knew she didn't want to delve into that subject again. "I have never fed a pig," she blurted out, wishing she'd thought about it more and taking a shot to mask her embarrassment.

Pansy's lips pursed before she said her next one, and Hermione had a feeling she wouldn't like it. "I have never _wanted_ to be dominated." Hermione was right, she didn't like it, and she stared at Pansy in the hopes she would take a shot. She didn't, and, blushing, she took one herself. She didn't know what came over her, or why she admitted it, but it felt... _right_.

~

"I'm home!" Hermione called excitedly, casually throwing the door shut behind her. She didn't have a clue what time it was, but the last time she'd looked at the clock, before everything went fuzzy, it was past midnight. Immediately she was met with an angry, and very sober, Ron.

"Where have you been?" he asked sharply, demanding an answer.

Hermione giggled. "None of your business, _Weasel_!"

"Oh," Ron sighed. "I see. You've been with _her_. Look at the state of you! You're drunk as a skunk."

"You can hardly talk," Hermione said, thought it came out slurred and she was surprised he could understand her.

"Never you mind what I do," he said nastily, grabbing her arm and shoving her towards the stairs. "Get into bed, sober up. We'll talk about this in the morning."

Hermione wrenched herself out of Ron's grasp, turning on him, her giddiness turned to anger. "How dare you! How _dare_ you. Months on end I've had to sit alone, in the dark, because you were out pissed with your mates, and I have one night of fun and you can't handle it. Screw you, Ron."

"Excuse me?" Ron's eyebrows raised in genuine shock at her reaction.

"I said," her voice got louder as she became more confident, but she guessed that was just the drink, " _screw you_."

Hermione walked past Ron, deliberately bumping into him, albeit clumsily, and threw herself out the door. She slammed it shut with all the strength she could muster, calling the Knight Bus and asking it to take her to the Parkinson residence. As drunk as she was, she wasn't stupid, and knew Apparating in this state would be far too risky. The journey was quick, and the gates to the grand manor Pansy lived in were open -- she was in luck. When she got to the double doors, she rang the bell and was greeted by Pansy herself, in black lingerie. It didn't appear as though she was doing anything to hide herself.

"Are you alright?" Pansy asked, seemingly concerned.

Hermione shook her head. "No. Big argument with Ron." She shrugged. "Didn't know what to do."

"Come in," Pansy sighed, waving a crooked finger in the direction of the nearest room. It turned out to be a lounge, and she seated herself plainly on the sofa. The room felt as though it was spinning, and she grabbed for the armrest to stop herself from toppling over. "Hey, hey," Pansy said softly, quicking getting off the sofa to catch her. Pansy looked down at her and delicately traced a finger down her cheek. It was a truly intimate moment. "I've got an alcohol reliever potion, I'll go get it."

Hermione waited for her to leave, but they were both staring into each other's eyes. Pansy was daringly close, and whether it was the drink or her internal desires, Hermione didn't know, but she leant forward and kissed her on the lips. As she expected, Pansy reciprocated the kiss, and their tongues danced around each other gently. It felt amazing, and she loved that Pansy was a much better kisser than the rough and sloppy Ron.

"Come upstairs," Pansy said quietly, taking Hermione's hand and leading her towards the grand staircase. "I'll take care of you."

Hermione knew exactly what this meant, and at this point she was too far-gone to care about what Ron would think. She deserved some fun, and she was certainly going to get it.

~

 _Oh god_ , Hermione thought, grabbing her head as she sat up the next morning. _What have I done?_ She looked around -- Pansy was lying next to her naked, and sprawled out comfortably. Both their clothes from the night before were strewn over the carpet, and she groaned at the realisation that she had been nothing more than an idiot. Not wanting to wake Pansy, for she might try and convince her to stay, Hermione grabbed her things, quickly got dressed and quietly left the room.

Hermione thought of everything that had happened that night, how the scenes from the books she'd read came alive, and how Pansy had taught her to be submissive. She found she liked it, enjoyed it, but that didn't make it right. What she'd done was very, very wrong, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to forgive herself for it.

Pansy had never got round to giving her that potion, and she realised she'd have to take one of the one's Ron kept prepared under the sink. What had happened with Pansy was a mistake, she knew that now, and she wasn't sure telling Ron was in anyone's best interests. It would make their already complicated relationship even worse, and she wanted to salvage what they had left, at least. They'd never really talked about their problems, and she suspected that was the main issue. After all, they couldn't work on something when they didn't know what caused it in the first place.

After safely Apparating home, she quietly opened the front door and sneaked into the kitchen. It was early and she didn't want to wake Ron. She knew she needed to feel at least a little better before she was able to handle talking to him about something so important. She took a potion from under the sink, and had never been so glad they'd had instantaneous responses before.

"Hi." Ron was standing in the kitchen doorway, leant against the doorjamb. He looked tired and worn out. "I'm sorry -- I was a hypocrite, I shouldn't have --"

Hermione waved her hands dismissively. "Never mind. Forget it. I'm sorry -- I should have told you where I was."

He nodded soberly. He looked as though he hadn't slept all night.

"It's obvious we need to talk, but I think we both need some sleep before a conversation like that occurs. Is that okay? We'll figure it out. The two of us have always been good at that," she said, rising the potion bottle out.

He gave a small smile and nodded, before giving her a small bow indicating she should precede him up the stairs. Hermione knew it would take time to heal their relationship, but it was for the best, and first thing tomorrow, she would quit her job at the bookshop. Perhaps she was more suited to be an Auror, after all.


End file.
